Contrary to my expectation that the prince would come nipping at my heels, the day ended up passing in peace. Even my dear foster sister didn’t come to bother me in the morning. When lessons concluded, I rose to take my leave.
The journey home took thirty minutes at a brisk walk, but I was more than capable. My pampered elder brother and stepsister, meanwhile, traveled by carriage. Privately, the old woman within me fretted over their future. If they didn’t get enough exercise now, wouldn’t they struggle in their old age?
I was just stepping out of the classroom, feeling grateful for such an uneventful day, when a voice called out to me.
“Laviange Robur!”
A silver-haired and blue-eyed figure stood blocking my path, the very image of a prince. Ah, no, wait. He was a prince. Behind him trailed his ever-loyal red-haired attendant, whose eyes were full of hostility. And further still, peeking out just past them, I glimpsed some familiar locks of pinkish brown hair.
Raising one’s voice in the hallway after lessons...didn’t that grow tiresome? Ah, but such was youth. This descendant of mine was simply brimming with energy. Alas, grandma just couldn’t keep up.
But more importantly...
“Oh dear, what a tragic expression you wear,” I mused.
“What did you say?!” the prince exploded. “A talentless, incompetent fool like you dares to insult me, a member of the royal family?!”
Ah, it appeared that I’d unintentionally thrown oil onto the fire. That said, my hearing was no different from that of any other sixteen-year-old, so there was really no need to shout. Of course, though, a mere ringing in the ears was hardly enough to shake a lady’s composure.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Oh? I meant no insult. I was simply questioning whether it was befitting of a member of the royal family to scowl so fiercely while shouting in the corridors. Especially while accompanied by an attendant from the knight course, who has such a menacing glare, and a woman other than his fiancée. Surely, one must consider the image they present to those around them, no?”
The young man faltered, unable to respond.
“Sister! You insulted mother last night at dinner, and now you speak that way even to His Highness?!”
Ah, there she was, peeking out from behind the prince’s attendant. As always, her sharp voice rang through the air, and she flopped about like a lively fish just pulled from the water. Her youthful energy was...admirable, I supposed. As was her talent for embellishing the truth.
“You’re right, it’s terribly rude to His Highness’s esteemed visage, is it not?” I lamented.
She looked at me in confusion. “What are you—”
“But truly, is it not a tragedy?” I continued. “A face so noble and blessed by beauty, marred so terribly by anger. It is only natural for a lady to lament such a sight. I’m glad we share the same sentiment. A loss for the world, is it not? But tell me, dear sister, what part of my words, spoken out of admiration for His Highness, could possibly be considered an insult? Surely, a lady as kind and well-mannered as yourself could explain it to me?”
I deepened my smile, attempting to ease the tension in the conversation. Yet, rather than relaxing, my dear foster sister grew stiff. How curious.
“I—I mean...even when he’s angry, His Highness’s face is still—”
“My, my. This is quite unacceptable, is it not?” I interrupted gently. “His Highness is royalty, yet here he stands, raising his voice in the halls of the Royal Academy, which serves as an informal social arena for the future leaders of this kingdom. Some might frown upon such conduct. And to display his temper so openly? In front of none other than Class D, the lowest-ranked by academic standing? Regardless of our year difference, if word were to spread that you, the top students of Class A, did more than merely raise your voices at a student of Class D like myself, what might that do to your reputations?”
Having said my piece, I attempted to walk past the prince, only to have my arm seized.
“What a pity,” I sighed. “This situation lacks any semblance of romance.”
“What nonsense are you spewing?” the prince growled. “You truly are not only untalented and incompetent, but vile as well. Do you take pleasure in tormenting your sister? I’ll not let you slip away so easily today.”
His voice was restrained, but his fury was not. My wrist ached beneath his grip. Ah, the strength of youth. I wondered, though, would he kindly stop applying more pressure? How terribly rough of him. Even in adolescence, one should treat their elders with kindness.
Then again...in this life, I was still only sixteen.
“You dare to disregard my words entirely, all while excusing your own shortcomings and continuing to torment me?” he demanded. “Just who do you think you are, you incompetent fool?”
“Who do I think I am? I am your betrothed, am I not? And really, your accusations seem rather misguided, don’t they?”
“What?! You dare mock me, you talentless disgrace?!”
Despite my warnings, he was now speaking so loudly that he had begun to draw the wary glances of nearby students. Was this truly the impression he wished to leave? And, oh my, he’d begun to twist my wrist. Was I now permitted to get angry?
“You are bending my wrist quite unnaturally,” I noted, maintaining my smile. “Any more, and it may well be considered violence.”
“You wretched little—!”
His grip tightened further—enough that his attendant finally noticed how much force he was applying.
“Hey, Shua, surely that’s too...”
Just then, a voice rang out from the classroom. “Just what do you think you’re doing?!”
My class’s homeroom teacher strode toward us. At the sound of her voice, two male teachers arrived quickly and separated His Highness from me. I idly noted that all three teachers had varying shades of brown hair. It gave me a satisfying sense of unity. Meanwhile, my wrist was already swelling, mottled in hues of red and blue.
The prince blanched. “I... I didn’t mean—”
How unfortunate. Now that he had returned to his senses, his first instinct was to glance at those around him. Did he seek sympathy? Forgiveness? Even a grandmother’s patience had its limits.
I flexed my fingers with a quiet sigh. “My, my. That does look rather swollen, doesn’t it?”
The two young men flinched. Meanwhile, my foster sister took a discreet step back, sidling up to a girl who appeared to be her friend—evidence of her finely tuned sense of self-preservation.
“Professor, may I go to the infirmary?” I asked. “It is my dominant arm, after all, and I would hate for this to interfere with tomorrow’s joint training.”
“Wait, I’ll—”
Ah, His Highness was capable of using healing magic. But I had no intention of allowing that.
“I would rather not have anyone assume I may be treated as one pleases simply because my incompetence calls to mind that of the so-called ‘legendary villainess,’ or that a simple healing spell would make everything right, or that, as royalty, such things ought to be overlooked.”
“Wh— I never meant—” He appeared to be shaken at hearing the term “notorious villainess,” and by my outright refusal. But I had indulged him long enough, and only because I had tried to view him as family.
No longer. I was angry now.
My usual ladylike smile was now replaced with a glacial smile befitting the original notorious villainess, and I delivered my words with absolute finality.
“Second Prince Joshua Rovenia. Do not mistake it. I feel this way because of you and your actions. And for one in power to act the victim in order to absolve himself is the very height of cowardice.”
Even if, at my core, I was practically his grandmother, and he was merely a hot-blooded teenage boy, I would not tolerate domestic violence.
This was probably the first time anyone had aimed such malice at him; his breath hitched. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. I had once been a princess who endured an era of turmoil, after all. A naive child should not assume he could best a woman who was armed with a lifetime of experience.
Ah, but my words had been quite thorny, hadn’t they? Perhaps that was why even the surrounding teachers had fallen silent, the entire atmosphere frozen as if the very air had been chilled.
“What is it that you want?” he murmured after a moment, seeming to have finally sensed the growing tension around him.
“A change of venue, perhaps?” his red-haired companion suggested carefully.
How absurd. I brushed the suggestion aside. “That will not be necessary. Let us keep this simple. His Highness has inflicted harm upon me, his betrothed. That is a fact. Therefore, he shall compensate me accordingly, from his personal funds. And that will be the end of this incident.”
A settlement, clear and final. The matter would end here, and I would pursue it no further.
“Sister?! You would demand money from His Highness?”
“Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself—”
Ah, they were fools. Fools, the both of them.
“Sienna, silence,” I said to my foolish foster sister. I then turned to look at the other fool. “Heinz Asche, third son of House Asche...”
His shoulders stiffened. Behind him, Sienna, who had stepped forward moments before, trembled—for the first time, not out of pretense, but genuine fear. Her pride couldn’t bear it—her face twisted in humiliation.
“Do you not know who I am?” I asked coolly.
The prince’s red-haired attendant hesitated, his brow furrowing. “What...are you trying to say?”
“I am Laviange Robur. Eldest daughter of House Robur and one of only two rightful heirs to that ducal house.” A ripple of tension spread through the gathered students. Sienna clenched her fists, her lips twisting. “Furthermore, I am—as of this moment—the fiancée of the second prince of this kingdom. And despite the involved parties seeking to annul the engagement, it still remains in effect by royal decree.” I paused for a moment, to let my words sink in. “Tell me, Sir Heinz. You dream of knighthood, do you not? If so, I suggest you reflect—deeply—on whom it is you truly serve. Engrave in your heart what it truly means to be a knight, set aside personal feelings, and do not involve others as sacrifices for trivial, misplaced affections. Whether as a knight apprentice or as a candidate for a close retainer, at the very least, strive to guide the one who may one day become your lord so that they may uphold true righteousness with dignity.”
“You—” He faltered.
But I had nothing more to say to him. I turned to my betrothed. “Now then, Your Highness, I trust you will handle this matter with all due haste. As for the rest of you, let us consider this incident concluded. I bid you all good day.”
His complexion was ashen. Without sparing him a second glance, I performed a flawless curtsy while being careful to maintain perfect posture despite my injured arm.
Naturally, as I turned back, my usual, ever-present smile remained firmly in place.